


The Maw of Memories

by The Space Bard (GraceJordan)



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lovers to Friends, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23345386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceJordan/pseuds/The%20Space%20Bard
Summary: Shepard and Garrus take Grunt to Tuchanka to deal with his little problem... But Shepard doesn't cope with coming face to face with her greatest fear
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	The Maw of Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: https://incorrectly-quoted-queers.tumblr.com/

Anya Shepard couldn’t believe the pillar of writhing death rising above her. It was like something from a far-off, ruined fairytale, where she was someone else who laughed harder and danced across the battlefield because everyone else had her back, right?

And it stood there like a nightmarish idol reminding her that she would always end up alone. 

A foot from her, her Krogan was practically vibrating in anticipation. His smile was wider than she’d ever seen it and he kept hopping from foot to foot, like he was going toe to toe in a boxing match, not facing off with something that leeched the marrow from her bones just by looking at her. 

Grunt said, "Now that looks like a good fucking fight." On the other side of the spectrum, Anya could feel her face paling, this overgrown leech taking everything it could from her. 

And she didn’t know how to stop it. Not when all she could see was Commander Garen in the gape of its mouth, being torn to shreds by its teeth. She couldn’t stop it. She never knew how to stop it. 

She remembered the last thing he said to her, when that thing showed up out of nowhere. He hunkered the rest of her team down, pointed ast her tactical cloak, and said, “Run.” 

Like an idiot, she did. 

On the other side of Grunt, Garrus was chuckling, but it sounded so far away, like she was underwater and they were on dry land, no clue she’d gone. 

She could even move.

Garrus answered, saying, "Yeah, sure, kid. Guess since dancers on Omega won’t work, washing Thresher guts off me for weeks is the price to get you back in working order." 

Anya knew she should laugh. It was funny; it was exactly what they would joke about on a normal mission, the average beat-down. 

But this wasn’t average, not when she could still hear Erim screaming in her ear. He was even screaming her name. She forgot that he screamed her name. When his blood splattered on her, Anya had felt it hot and burning down her arm while she just kept running. 

It’s what her Commander told her to do, right?

That’s what she was supposed to do, right? 

"Let's go behind cover and switch to our snipers, right Shepard?" Garrus was talking to her, and she should answer, tell him he was right, but she was as stiff as Winkler’s body after the Thresher arm tossed her into the air and slammed her on the ground. Every bone in her body wasn’t hers anymore; it was broken, wrong. 

Anya could see Winkler’s helmet fly off into the air like it didn’t matter. Compared to a Thresher, it didn’t. 

This one didn’t have the same bloodstains on its body, but she could swear she saw them, staining it all back on her hands. 

All those people dead, and she just kept running. 

Commander Garen’s orders weren’t a good enough excuse. Insubordination wasn’t rare for her. Why didn’t she stay? 

She could’ve stayed. 

She was their best sniper; what if she saved them?

Anya should’ve fucking stayed.

"Shep- shit." Her lips were shaking, underneath her own heavy helmet. She wondered how much it would take for the Thresher to toss hers off. Some acid spit? A few swipes? One single bite?

Anya knew Garrus’ arm was grabbing hers, that he was dragging her body like a soggy rag doll behind some cover. But she couldn’t feel it, none of it. Garrus was yelling, "Grunt, keep it's attention." 

"Don't mind if I do."

Garrus was yelling. Grunt was yelling. There were so many people yelling. 

If Shepard could, she’d be screaming, too. 

His hands were on her helmet, lightly knocking her face. It felt like he was making her bob at the water’s edge, surfacing but never able to keep herself up. She was leaning into some sort of object, but she couldn’t look because if she did she might glance over and see it ripping them apart, over and over and over and-

"Shepard. It's okay. We got this." Even though she was trapped under a helmet, suffocating, drowing, remembering, dying, surviving, he was stroking it like it was her face, soft and lovable. 

She wasn’t lovable. 

She was the sole soulless fucking survivor. 

Garrus tried to reassure her, "Even if you need to sit down and breathe, we got this."

Finding her voice, she said the only things she could: "Erim. Winkler. Garen." 

"Anya." This time, he grabbed her arm, like it could make her surface. But her limbs weren’t the problem. It was the screaming, the images flashing, the soreness of her muscles that she hadn’t felt since that day, where she just kept running. 

Why did she keep running? 

Why wasn’t she running now?

She couldn’t save them then, she couldn’t save them now. "You aren't stuck there right now. You're here with us. With me." Garrus pulled her into his arms, tight. “You’re Commander Anya Shepard and you’re not running anymore.”

It was like she finally broke the surface. Gulping for air, Anya felt her chest heaving up and down. Maybe it had been doing that the entire time. It was sore, she was breathing so hard.

Still gasping, Anya said, "I haven't seen one this close since-"

"I gathered." Garrus was calculated, making quick glances between her, the Thresher, and Grunt shooting his little heart out. "The faster we shoot our asses out of here, the faster we can get back on the Normandy and watch Bond movies or talk about it, alright?" Shepard knew those sounded nice, or they should sound nice. But right now they just felt so far away. Her limbs her heavy and also so light that she could float away at any moment. 

Right into the Thresher’s maw, a free snack for anyone who’d claim her. That’s what it was like, right? 

They hadn’t had a fucking shot. 

Garrus placed his hands on her shoulder again. "You're Commander fucking Shepard. So you'll be okay or I'll rip that thing apart with my bare hands." He pressed his helmet’s forehead against hers and, while the contact was second-hand, it felt like something to hold onto. “I took care of the one on Edolus for you. Trust me that we got this one and stay.”

Anya wanted to scream, to run. 

But despite her instincts, she trusted his voice. She nodded and he let go of her. Sniper and Krogan working side by side, they fought the Thresher Maw. 

And despite her better instincts and screaming insides, Anya Shepard stayed. 

...

After the Thresher Maw, Shepard got flown back to Chakwas and spent an hour or so with the good doctor. She was given a fast-acting benzodiazepine. Chakwas also gave her water, juice, and chocolate to try to get her back to herself. 

And a lot of time to breathe. 

When she was finally released, she went back to her room. Even though the PTSD-related panic attack was over, she could still feel her body shaking all the way to her toes. 

Anya wasn’t surprised by the door pinging only a minute later, though. She knew someone wouldn’t just let her ignore what happened. 

His voice was as low and soothing as ever, even when his chuckle was fake as fuck. “And here we are again, talking in your room.”

Anya was on her couch, staring at an old picture of her team, her knees tucked under her chin. She used to smile so stupid and big, back then. “I thought I was over it.” Sighing, she put it back down on the ledge. Garrus took the opportunity to sit across from her, just barely touching the tips of her toes with his thighs. Anya admitted, “I guess it was dumb, thinking I’ll ever be over it.”

“You’re not dumb.”

Snorting, Anya didn’t mean to let her laugh be so shaky. The walls of her chest still felt so unstable. “You say that, but I just turned into a pile of oatmeal that wanted to take up jogging in front of one of the most dangerous creatures in the galaxy.”

“If that was me out there, you wouldn’t be saying I was dumb.”

“I dunno. I might.” The turian glared at her. Anya hated it when he called her bluff, and ended up groaning. “Fine. You’re right. But that doesn’t make me feel better.” Pulling at the ends of her long brown hair, twirling strands between her fingertips, she asked, “I mean, what kind of Commander am I if Thresher Maws turn me into oatmeal?”

“The human kind.” Anya glared at him. “I know you like to forget that, but everyone has weaknesses.” Even though she was a ball of angst, Garrus opened his arms and pulled her into his arms. “C’Mere.” She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t fight him. Settling down between his legs, caged in his arms, Anya let him wrap her in his comfort.

Even though she didn’t deserve it. 

Sighing, she said, “Whatever you say probably won’t make me feel better.” When Garrus grumbled behind her, she just told him what she was thinknig. It was all Anya had right now. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“Such a lack of faith in me.”

“It’s more a lack of faith in me. I’m stubborn and troublesome and-”

Garrus pressed his face into the back of her head before saying, “Mine is C-Sec officers.”

“What?”

“My weakness is C-Sec. Awkward, since I worked there for years. But I was a loner for a reason. If I ever was arguing with one of my co-workers, I couldn’t get a hold of myself. It would always get out of hand. Something about them always reminded me too much of my father, which isn’t a great thing for me. But they were versions of my father that I could punch. Not that I punched them... often.” While he talked, he intertwined his fingers with one of hers. Anya just kept staring at his hand in hers, something she wasn’t completely disappointed with right now; even when talking about punching fellow officers. “Let’s just say, I probably wouldn’t have lasted much longer even if I hadn’t left.”

Anya said, “That’s... not good.”

“The point is, you think I’m a good person. But that’s an unpleasant flaw of mine, one that sometimes gets other people hurt. And sure, I wish it didn’t happen and the punching part was my fault. But if it's an association I can’t control, then...”

“Then you shouldn’t keep blaming yourself for feeling certain things. You should just control what you can.”

“Exactly.”

“And you’re saying I do well otherwise, but I can’t control the fact that those... things get to me.”

“So the student becomes the teacher.” 

Anya leaned into his forearm and groaned. “I don’t like when you’re right.”

“Why not? I find it refreshing to have someone else get to be the brains around here.”

Pressing her lips to his arms, he glanced up at those wonderful blue eyes of his. Even though she still felt like she broke half her ribs screaming from the inside, looking up at him didn’t feel so bad. “Oh, but I love being the one always right.”

“You can be right about everything else. But when it comes to Thresher Maws, you don’t have to always be the hero. There’s a reason you have a team, Anya.” Now that? That made her hold a little tighter on her knees. “You have every right to fear them; hate them. But you’re not alone anymore. Let us make sure they never take something away from you ever again.”

She didn’t have anything good to say. She felt overwhelmed, remembering Erim’s amazing pies or Winkler’s chess prowess or how Commander Garen secretly practiced ballet with her in the mornings; he taught her how to tap.

So many years she stayed tough.

Then Garrus’ arms tightened around her and Anya figured maybe she didn’t have to be so tough. Not all the time, at least. He added, “If that fear ever turns angry, though, I’ll be happy to go on a revenge spree with you. Hunting’s not normally my style, but anything bothering you is free game in my book.”

Anya laughed. Not just when she should, but because she wanted to, even if it hurt her sore ribs. “You’re stupid.” Turning around, she pressed her lips to his cheek and scanned his face, never wanting to forget a single detail. Maybe next Thresher, she could remember that this face was there to make sure she was okay. With a smile, she said, “But you’re my kind of stupid.” 

And they spent the rest of the night together, not running, not punching, just staying in each other's arms.

Neither of them were alone. 

///

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from my tumblr! I love writing my Anya and Garrus so it was *chef's kiss* for me as a writer
> 
> If you want to check out said tumblr, have a blast! I post mostly about Witcher, Mass Effect, and Star Trek 
> 
> Tumblr: https://incorrectly-quoted-queers.tumblr.com/


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